Extra Evil - The Regift of the Magi

Today's Fortune: Get your favorite writer something nice.

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Newsreel

Gaetz’s dates kept receipts in their backpacks.

Hong Kong wants six activists for Christmas.

Eric Adams practiced for his perp walk.

Heavy start. Maybe a French headline would be less JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

Jamie Foy won the Jamie Foy award.

New tech can save transplants for twice the declined operations.

Today's Mood

Smough and Ornstein are a culture.

War Journal

When I’m warlord of New York’s charred remains, I’m moving Christmas to July. Those ads tapped something real. Togetherness has more appeal without black ice.

I’m relaxing this round—right now, two real days off are priceless. A holiday miracle, even. But I’m serious about ice damage, my lifelong weakness. At this temperature, even rolling around does little to keep me warm or alive. I still practice, but it feels less like training and more like derangement. Someone has to keep the neighbors awake.

I hope your holiday’s restive, or classically heartwarming. Or dramatic, if that’s more your speed. Lord knows some people need a knife fight to feel alive.

What’s your favorite poison? I’m dipping my toes back into taurine.

While I’ve dragged game ads across the coals of late, energy drinks have Earth’s funniest branding. I’m sipping a can of cop juice—the company calls it Bang Energy—and I can’t look at the hot pink gunsight logo without smiling. It looks like something from a Mushroom Kingdom gun show. Maybe that’s where Luigi got his kit.

In their defense, it tastes pink. And hits my organs like a bullet.

The calorie race to the bottom’s striking. I’m not immune to it—this can of Cotton Candy Bang claims zero (e.g. less than five), a number that tickles the bro brain much more lovingly than five or ten. It’s all negligible, but good luck convincing madmen that the walls don’t talk.

While spiritually pink, the product itself goes another way. Cotton Candy Bang, like water, is a clear liquid dominated by a single corporation. I need both to survive a workout, and the corner store thinks I’ll pay four dollars for either. From my perch, there’s no difference. Aside from water rarely saving an all-nighter.

My main critique is eternal for every brand: change the cans. It’s 2024, and energy drinks still look like tall boys from the average busybody’s distance. It doesn’t help that the logos follow the same moron playbook. I don’t need more NYPD attention than I already get for matching the description.

For all the joy of inventions, brainstorms, research, and distortions, you can have a quality comedy career just looking. The royal you, not you or me. I don’t know your life, and I should keep my cards close to avoid jail.

I thumbed through Dear Committee Members again. The protagonist’s unreadable novel has a wonderful title: Transfer of Affection. I can imagine all four hundred pages of navel-gazing. I still recommend the book, it’s some of the most fun I’ve had with a campus novel.

Rereading’s my main literary weakness, aside from deadlines and sticking three superfluous backup punchlines to each joke. I get antsy. It has less to do with novelty, and more a sense of FOMO. The to-do pile is beyond my comprehension. I’m a fantasy dork that hasn’t read one word of The Wheel of Time.

I’ll catch up. Just a little more cotton candy.

I’ve gone mad: “Jingle Bell Rock” has looped back around to funny. It’s been terrible and omnipresent for so long it feels like a bit. I chuckle every time. At this point, it’s a net emotional positive.

The Present

• I wrote a novel about the Civil War, because I like trouble. [My Next Book]

• My attempt to break a keyboard. [Exclusive Evil]

• Five of my fancy comedy columns are free! The best, even. [1900HOTDOG]

• Kagurabachi refines the art of stabbing. [Weeaboo Hell]

• Making this list was my surprise of the season. [The Stunt List]

• I was in a mood writing this one. [Exclusive Evil]

• Everything Abridged abridges lots of things. [My Previous Book]

The Past

I still have a bad habit of laughing at my own jokes.

The Future

My next 1900HOTDOG broadside makes me smile, so look out for that. Sam and I recorded a fun episode of Weeaboo Hell, which means Audacity is ruining my life.

Not Brought to You By

Doing things backwards is the Dayle/American/human way. Since we hit Electronic Gaming Monthly #2 last round, it’s time for the premiere issue. EGM distinguished itself over the years with agile writing and a little edge. Let’s see if the ads kept up.

Irksome. Not the ad, it’s okay. But my review needs the football version of a bunt, and I grew up in a baseball household. Google says a QB sneak, tell me if that’s close. No one alive will read a word between the headline and game box, but the part humans will look at scans. I’ll forgive the side-by-side for the perfect glasses from wardrobe.

Creativity: C- | Persuasion: C | Sanity: B

Respect. A boring ad for both Gauntlet and Tetris is historic. I know it’s boring after reading that copy wall, which a handful of you pay me for. I don’t think EGM readers got checks.

Creativity: D | Persuasion | D | Sanity: C-

The first? Awesome. That’d make a great ad.

I’m often tempted to duck sanity scores for wasting page space/airtime/real estate. This stuff costs money. But that’d crush all the categories into a single featureless ball.

Creativity: D- | Persuasion: D | Sanity: B-

There’s plenty of issue left. I might milk this one a little more.

One Sentence Reviews

The Organ Grinder: As solid as its topic is dismal. (3.5/5)

Arcane (Season One): This being good defies nature. (4/5)

Lutharo - Wings of Agony: Lives off of gusto. (3/5)

Easy Question

Harder Question

Signing off

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